Chronicles of Loki
by DannyPhantomOfTheAvatar
Summary: Set after The Dark World. Loki has flashbacks, and things still roaming his mind. (An attempt at Norse realism)


_"You know you will be caught, Loki, if you keep sneaking around like that. Your father doesn't do kind to tricks." Frigga holds a young child's hand, leading him down one of the many main hallways in the elaborant homekeep of the Allfather._

_Loki, growing in to his youthful age, holds tight to the hand in his. "Mother, you can call them tricks all you'd like. Yet, I only practice the things you teach." His everchanging eyes look up to her, solid in his thinking. Frigga perks the corners of her mouth, "I know, my kin, but I beg of your carefulness. There will be a day when your father will not only resort to punishment by training." Her hand comes up to stroke the thick hairs on his head._

_"Yes, mum." Loki agrees, eyes going to the light at the end of the hall. Their hands fit into one another's once more._

The two disappear slowly into nothing, for they were only mirages thought up and displayed by the much older, and hopelessly wiser Loki, today. He follows his memories like this often, roaming his 'once' home unknown.

"Fools." The silver tongue snaps. "Both of them."

He means it, feet stomping barefoot on the stone, echoing and shouting for his reveal. But it never comes. He strides on, clothed in wraps of material with a darkened color robe over. "Valhalla is not worthy of such a spectacle, the whole realm of Glaosheimr is not worthy of the woman who raised me." This day break was difficult.

The weights of everything that has happened has hit Loki each day. This day, his mother lay on his mind. This day, his presence will be revealed to an old friend. For consolation, for his well being.

.

"You will show me her?" Loki confronted Heimdall, charming guards and disguising himself as needed. Though, the past is chipped with the once friendly watchman.

"I see your sincerity." Heimdall boasts, "But I've also watched you die, so what is the silver lining?" The sword weilded man questions deeply, obviously being here before.

Loki has none of this. He may not have changed, but with the knowledge of Frigga's wellbeing, he may. "My mother. MY MOTHER IS THE SILVER LINING, GUARDATION BRUTE!" His hands shook feverishly at his sides. This made Heimdall agree. Not the hands shaking, but the way Loki held himself back. He wasn't blowing up like before. Nobody's bloodshed was forseen.

"Come." Heimdall said.

.

Through many visions of thousands of worlds and many realms, Loki could see the breaking shine of Valhalla. The near fivehundred doors, eight hundred men moving in and out at all times. The holy doors of Valgrind, the unsaid burial of Helgi... it was stunning. He looked to the grazing animals ontop the structure that fit into the greenery of the moutainside, when his eyes spotted a familiar animal.

"Fenrir." His son, the large and intimidating, and never forgotten to be tempermental, wolf grazed as well. A figure yet was hidden in shadow behind the beast, stroking its tough fur like a child's head of hair.

"Mother." Loki whispered in a choked cry of awe. Her blonde hair was golden now, the essence of her afterlife all of maternal beauty. It is said Valhalla transforms you to your expected state. And she is gorgeous. Loki stood there before Heimdall spiraling into a weep of emotion.

He didn't expect her to die as she did, he can't care for her like he wants to now. He has to walk away.

The saddening image of Frigga with his son graves him, and he blinks his eyes rapidly, turning oppositely the sight. He was still in Asgard, still standing with Heimdall, yet he felt so close to her. "You tell Odin of my return and I will rebel."

Heimdall laughs, not amused or mad, "You rebel now, Loki. It's as if I already alerted Odin."

The words rung in Loki's ears, bringing him to the time of his first remembered travel out of Asgard. He was seven in earth's human years, and very bright, learning his tricks early. He persuaded Heimdall at the time to show him the great waterfalls of a realm known only in books. Heimdall nods, "As long as you've been given permission."

Loki promised of his parents approval, going to the large falls and being returned sooner than he'd hoped by a not-so happy Heimdall. "You lied to me, young one." Heimdall and his all seeing eyes knew too late.

"Tell father and I may rebel and be known throughout the kingdom as Odin's faulty parenting." Loki, being melodramatic, said.

Heimdall breathed wearily, "You rebel now, young Loki. I don't need your father's eyes for you to do so."

.

"His son's been changed to a horse."

"He's a pervert whose born his own son."

"I hear his daughter was damned to rule Hell."

"He impregnates a woman to birth a wolf!"

"Even the god with the silver tongue couldn't lie about having a serpent child."

He hid unseen during Odin's formal recoup of his own death. Those were the things he could hear in the crowd. It didn't hurt him normally, but how bastardly could you be to put down a dead man? Given: he wasn't really dead. Yet, the words struck hard.

Loki's disguise was of a guard he knew nobody knew of. Even if he wasn't good, at least he knew he was known for something.

The staff of Odin's came down, striking ground and shutting everyone up. "Calm, my people! We are gathered here to take note of an infamous one's passing."

A rumblr of voices pulsed the idea of Loki's death.

"He was beloved, wise, and foolish." Odin said. Loki couldn't hold back his, "wow!", full of sarcasm.

Odin heard, stamping his staff, "Care to add?" Eyes grew on Loki. He swallowed, "Beloved? Seems strong for someone infamous, doesn't it? You've prepared a party outside as if celebrating a war won, or enemy beaten."

Chirps of nodding of whispers collide. Odin grumbles again, "I raised this man who has died. If I truly didn't love him, than I would have given him to our help to raise him. Why would I go through the trouble?"

Loki smiled, wide, he knew the answer. It was because he was needed to be kept safe, to be heavily guarded. A jotun shall never be under low alarm. No matter if you raised him. "Loki, son of the woman Laufey and son of the man Farbauti. He's dead, correct? This is a party!" Loki played up his part of being a hateful guard.

The crowd of people uproared, cheering and pushing and shoving to the party hall, dismissing themselves, leaving Odin alone with his worthless staff.

.

Loki walk again, to the stables this time. Visiting relatives. Children.

"Nari, Sleipnir." Loki presses his hand to their cheeks. Sleipnir, the gray, eightlegged horse, neighs happily. While Nari, the black furred and green eyed, horse looked wide-eyed. Loki bent to this one, "Son, it's been years since your change, I cannot successfully change you permanently back." Nari was the unlucky soul of having a witch curse him the looks of a young horse.

He's grown with Sleipnir, who knows nothing of his humanized form.

Loki turns to the other, "And Sleipnir, you're so much bigger than I remember." The son's mane flips side to side as Sleipnir bucks with joy.

Another sad memory that flip-books in Loki's mind. The months of being trapped a mare, the days of agonizing birth, the run from the stallion. There was a time where Loki was so far deep in the woods after the incident that he began walking in his normal form back to the palace. He was just basically raped by a horse, thought nothing of it, until rioting jolts of pain forced him down, and thinking himself a dead man, thought cutting the thing out.

Until something inside him demanded he change to a mare, and face the pain.

Loki look to Nari and Sleipnir again, going to the eightlegged horse to brace his middle in a long hug, including their memories of being mother and son. He let go, walked to Nari and braced him the same, and leaned to whisper in his ear.

"Come with me." He ushered, loving the veer of question in Nari's eyes as his head turns. The father looks over to Sleipnir, "My son, Nari and I are going for a quick ride. I'll be back soon for a ride with you." Sleipnir neigh's with excitment, knocking over buckets of water and food behind him.

Nari chuckles at his brother, yet still shivers with question. Loki walks him a way's outback, quiet until they reach a fence. "I can't grant you a human life. But I can offer you a spell, a shapeshifter's spell." He's long over due his son with this spell.

Nari doesn't nod or do anything, he just looks as he did before. Maybe a little shocked.

Loki takes this as approval and places his fingers to Nari's head, whispering a spell Nari should remember. And ever so slowly, rays of golden-green light ravel over the horse, until a younger man shows through. Black hair, green eyes looking forward, thin figure. "Nari, you can speak." Loki says, putting his hand down, looking at a face he hasn't seen in many decades.

The boy looks down first, eyes filling with tears as his fingers wiggle, two feet move unsteadily. "I once denounced you as my dad. I tried to convince Sleipnir you'd never come back unless you wanted something from us." His rough voice was cold, but his eyes grew warmer. "You come back tonight, and give Sleipnir hope again. Why?"

The father takes a step closer, "Nari, remember that spell, remember to never let Sleipnir know, and remember to keep you two safe. I wasn't there as a father should be, but I wasn't even in my own mind before. I'm not asking forgiveness, Nari, just remember that spell."


End file.
